Tattered Lives
by Wesker Chick
Summary: ChrisXWesker Yaoi. When Chris saves Wesker's life, his reason for doing so is unclear. Soon, however the two discover feelings they never knew they had. Will their new found love survive or will the the men who held Wesker captive destroy them both?
1. Prologue

**!DISCLAIMER!**

_Resident Evil and all characters therein belong to Capcom. Derry, Maine belongs to Stephen King. Alexandra Wesker is the sole property of myself and cannot be used without my permission, as are all other OCs contained within this story. Thank you. WC _

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A/N: This is a ChrisXWesker Yaoi. If you do not like Yaoi, please read no further, because I'm not interested in reading reviews where you damn me to hell for making to men be romantic with each other. This fic contains no actual description of sexual acts, sorry to disappoint a lot of you, but I almost always go with the romantic side of things and leave the sex to the imagination. There will be kissing and a bit of making out.

For everyone still with me...ENJOY!!

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…voices and pain…

That's all that he could remember for what seemed like years, because that was all there was. Two voices and his own pain…

A female's voice…somehow sweet and cheerful through the screams of agony that reverberated through the darkened room.

A male's voice…calculated, stern, a doctor's voice…he knew the tone, after all he used to be one.

The voices were gone for now, but not for long. He had no way of tracking time in this prison, they left nothing to tell him how long he had suffered…chained up like an animal. He tailed his current suffering against all he had done and decided his tab was paid in full…with a tip. Before he could decided just how much over his bill he had paid he passed out again…

…explosions…screaming…gunfire…

…light…

"Holy shit, well if this don't beat all."

Slowly Wesker lifted his head, the chains that held his wrists tinkling as his weight shifted. He cracked an eye, wincing at the pain. There had been varying amounts of dimness in the room, but since he had been brought here, the room had never been fully lit.

"Who.." He whispered, his eyes adjusting. "…who's there…"

"Come on Captain, I know you remember _me_."

The fuzzy shape finally fell together into an actual person and Wesker was confronted by none other than his archenemy, Christopher Redfield. However, anyone that might be able to get him out of this hell was his best friend.

"…red…field…chris…"

"Very good Wesker, congratulations, you remember those people you've betrayed."

The anger in Chris's voice was almost palpable. The explosions seemed to taper off, just as the intercom announced the immanent demise of the installation.

"Well Captain, I'm off. Don't want to be here when the fireworks go off." Chris turned, heading for the door. "See you in hell, Sir."

"…please…help me…"

Whether it was the pleading in Wesker's voice or the actual use of the word _please_, it made Chris stop dead in his tracks and turn. The pleading in those yellow red eyes was even worse than the pleading of his voice had been.

Chris was torn, because there was no treachery, no lying, just a man begging for help. Chris hated Wesker with every fiber of his being, but he couldn't leave him here helpless to die…if he was going to die, Chris was going to do the job himself.

Footsteps echoed in the hallway, along with shouts, and orders. Chris' head snapped to the open door.

"Chris, I'm begging you…" Wesker's voice broke. "…don't leave me here…please, don't leave me here…"

Chris sighed, working quickly to release Wesker from the chains that held him. He finally managed it, almost falling over as Wesker's dead weight fell into him. Despite the situation, Chris couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

"…can't walk…chained too…too long…"

"I got ya sir."

Chris shifted Wesker's weight and stood up with the man draped over his shoulder. Chris gave one last look at the chains hanging from the ceiling then turned his attention toward getting out of there before anyone decided they wanted Wesker more than he wanted to save his sorry ass…


	2. Truth Behind Lies

Wesker strained against the chains, his back arching in an almost unnatural way

_Wesker strained against the chains, his back arching in an almost unnatural way. Any further and he was likely to snap his back in two. _

"_I think that's enough."_

_The pain ceased and Wesker went limp, his entire body weight resting on his ceiling chained wrists. He panted heavily, sweat trickling into his eyes._

"_My, my Mr. Wesker, that was quite a lot of voltage." The voice and the smile were pleasant and soothing, just what she was having done to him was as far from that as you could possibly get. "You continue to amaze us, let's see how you do on the next setting shall we…_

Wesker sat bolt upright, biting back a scream. It took a moment for him to realize he was no longer chained to the ceiling in an unknown installation. Instead he found himself in a moderately large bedroom in the dark. He was covered in sweat and tangled in set of dark blue sheets.

Breathing deeply, he glanced around, taking in his surroundings. Across from the bed, on his left was an open door and beyond a bathroom. That meant, unless this home was extremely huge, he was in the master bedroom.

"But who's bedroom?"

A glance to his right at an end table solved that problem. Sitting next to the lamp was a framed picture of Claire and Chris Redfield, standing in front of the R.P.D. Also on the end table was a change of clothes. It wasn't until he spotted the boxer shorts that he glanced down and realized he was completely naked.

As he headed for the bathroom, he wondered briefly just who had undressed him and dropped him in bed…he blushed when realized it may well have been Chris…

Downstairs…

Chris paced the living room nervously. On the couch, Rebecca and Jill watched him with mild amusement. They'd been drug into this mess the moment Chris had gotten Wesker back to his house. To be honest he wasn't sure if the man had needed medical attention or not and the only one he trusted to look after him was Rebecca. Jill had kinda been an afterthought. Knowing his own temper and the nature of the visitor, Chris had thought it wise to include her…if for no other reason that to keep him from killing Wesker before he got the answers he was looking for.

Just as Chris was about to head upstairs, the shower had been off for nearly twenty minutes, a thin figure appeared on the landing. He and Wesker had similar builds, though he was taller than his former Captain, but now Wesker looked somewhat rakish. It made Chris wonder just how long he'd been held captive.

The dark green tee-shirt was a bit on the loose side and the jeans were a tad too long. Although Chris couldn't help but notice that they fit damn snug on the man in the thigh and waist area. He also noticed that Wesker's hair was not in it's usual style and instead hung down over his eyes and down to his jaw line. As he started down the stairs, he absently brushed at the hair, pushing it to the side and Chris couldn't help but stare.

Jill cleared her throat, snapping Chris out of whatever daydream he happened to be in, just as Wesker reached the bottom of the stairs. Chris was taken aback by how nervous Wesker looked. He was so used to seeing Wesker looking cocky and self sure, that this almost rabbit fear was unsettling.

"Um…" Wesker stammered, looking around. "Should I be worried?"

"Not yet." Chris mumbled.

Jill shot Chris a glare as she stood up, but it turned into a smile as she walked over to Wesker.

"Wesker, why don't you sit down and let Rebecca look you over."

Smiling, she lead Wesker to the couch and sat him down. As he settled on the couch, Rebecca turned, holding a roll of gauze and some tape. Wesker is more than a little surprised and wary of just what is going on.

After all he himself shot Rebecca point blank in the chest, locked Jill up during the duration of the Mansion incident, and loosed a Tyrant on Chris. Needless to say he was more than a tad bit apprehensive.

"Don't take this the wrong way or anything…but shouldn't the three of you be taking advantage of this and try to kill me?"

"Weeeell." Rebecca singsonged, as she examined his wrists. "Six months ago we would have, but after the Congressional Commission found those files, we've begun to rethink our position about you."

"Some of us have anyway." Jill's eyes flicked to Chris, then settled back on Wesker.

"We know about Enrico, Alex, and what really happened at the mansion."

"Six…months…"

Jill and Rebecca exchanged glances. Neither of them had to ask, they could tell from Wesker's tone of voice just what he was talking about. He'd been chained and tortured for quite a long time.

Chris, on the other hand, either wasn't getting it or just didn't give a damn. Considering his state of mind, one would probably vote for the latter.

"Yea, six months. Congratulations, life's a bitch…now would you mind telling us about the Bravo Chopper?!"

"Christopher!" Jill sounded both shocked and pissed. "What in the hell…"

"It crashed."

Jill turned from Chris back to Wesker, looking a bit pale. He sounded almost like his old self again and the look on his face was painfully close to his usual cockiness. Chris felt vindicated, Jill felt sick, and Rebecca was ignoring all of them…her focus centered on the burn marks around Wesker's neck.

"No shit." Chris growled, crossing his arms. "Mind telling us what you did to it?"

"Not a damn thing." Wesker growled. "Talk to Umbrella and Enrico about that one."

"So it's true?" It was Chris' turn to sound shocked.

"If by true, you mean that Enrico was on Umbrella's payroll years before I took over the Captain's position in S.T.A.R.S. and that HE was the one that caused the chopper to crash under orders from Umbrella in order to obtained combat data…then yes, it's true."

"But you shot him! You were sent to…"

"Yea, I shot him. He almost got me killed, I was a bit pissed off. As for Umbrella sending me to do anything, it was more like the ultimatum of getting combat data or my sister and her family getting killed."

"You locked Jill in a cell!"

"She was safe from the creatures in the mansion!"

"You blackmailed Barry!!"

"It got us out of the mansion!"

"You shot Rebecca!"

"She was wearing a bullet proof vest!"

"You didn't know that!"

"I ordered her to wear one the first day she was on the team!!"

Wesker slammed his hand on the coffee table in front of him, with a resounding crack. There was the sound of splintering wood and a second later the coffee table split in two. Wesker blushed a deep crimson as he slowly lowered his hand to his lap. Chris, on the other hand, was livid.

Not about the coffee table, that was the least of his concerns. No, Chris was pissed because everything Wesker said made since…everything was true. After the Raccoon Commission, named after the city that started it all, convened Wesker's sister, Alex, came forward with several files that she had been given after his apparent death. Given to her by an unnamed mole within the company, a mole that turned out to be Ozwell Spencer's personal assistant.

Long story short, Wesker got set up and his sister was put in danger. Because of this he was absolved of his crimes and the warrant, which had been issued since Raccoon city, was terminated. This included Rockfort Island as well, given the fact that his new employer was pulling Umbrella's old tricks.

Everyone had come to terms and even accepted the ruling. Hell even Rebecca was kool with it and he'd actually shot her. Chris, on the other hand, couldn't seem to move forward…let alone move on.

"Chris…" Jill growled, grabbing his upper arm. "…a moment!"

Jill dragged him in the kitchen…seconds later they were arguing. Their voices were just low enough that neither Rebecca nor Wesker could understand what they were saying, except for a few words now and then. Most of Chris' were expletives.

"There, all done." Rebecca finished taping off the bandage around Wesker's neck and sat back. "It should heal just fine…um…I'm not sure how long it will take, given the changes in your body."

"A couple of days." Wesker's eyes flicked toward the kitchen. "Do they argue like this all the time?"

"Ever since the divorce."

"Huh?"

"They got divorced about five months ago." Rebecca sighed as she put away her supplies. "Frankly Jill couldn't handle Chris' obsession with you anymore."

Wesker started to say something when Jill and Chris returned, Chris looking petulant and sulky. Rebecca stood up with her bag, letting Jill take her seat.

"Alright, you're staying here until we find out just what was going on at that installation. Chris was a bit hasty with his little Vacation."

Jill glared at Chris and Wesker got the impression Chris' invasion of the installation was not sanctioned nor very well received.

"You're staying here." Chris snapped. "Get used to the idea."

…Later…

It was three in the morning and Chris had barley slept a wink. Part of the problem was having Wesker in his house the other was having Wesker sleeping in his bed. This meant that Chris was sleeping on the couch.

He was just climbing back onto the couch when he heard a loud scream from upstairs. Without thinking he jumped to his feet and bolted up the stairs two at a time. There was another scream as he slammed open the door to his bedroom.

"What the…"

Wesker was yelling his head off and clawing at the bed like a madman. Chris sprinted to the bed and grabbed the man by the wrists, this only seemed to worsen the situation.

"Shit."

Wesker wasn't having a nightmare, he was having a night terror. Chris struggled with the flailing man, quite a feat given the fact that Wesker could probably bend a steel girder.

"Calm down…damn it Wesker!"

Suddenly Chris was on his back and Wesker was straddling his chest. Things weren't going to go well if he couldn't wake Wesker up in a hurry. So he did the only thing that he could think of…

"Albert! STOP!"

Wesker seemed to freeze, then just collapse on top of him. Chris wasn't sure which was more surprising, finding Wesker on top of him or having him stop because he said his first name. Probably the latter, but it had been the only thing he could think of to sort of jolt Wesker out of whatever terror he'd been trapped in. After all, Chris doubted whoever had tortured him called him by his first name and it was obvious that was what Wesker had been dreaming of.

"Well that was fun."

Chris sighed and started to shimmy out from under Wesker and was surprised to find he couldn't move…at all. Wesker had one arm wrapped around his waist and a leg draped over his ankles. Chris wasn't going anywhere and if he even tried to move the tiniest bit, Wesker tightened his grip.

"Shit…at least neither of us is naked."

Resigned to his fate, Chris fell asleep…


	3. Brief Emotions

Wesker awoke in a slightly better way this morning than the previous day

Wesker awoke in a slightly better way this morning than the previous day. I say slightly because instead of waking up ready to scream, he awoke to a ringing phone only inches from his face. Again, slightly better.

Without really thinking about it, he reached out and picked up the phone.

"hello?"

Right after the words were out of his mouth, he seemed to realize this wasn't his house or his phone so he had no idea what to say to the person on the other end of the line luckily the person on the other end was well aware of the events occurring at Chris' home.

"Wesker?"

"Uh…yea."

"Oh, hi, it's Claire."

Wesker was more than just a little bewildered, she sounded almost happy to be talking to him. After Rockfort Island he would have thought she would drive down here, just to have a chance to shoot him in the head. Perhaps there was more that happened at the hearings than he had been told, to lead to this change of heart.

"Could you go rouse my brother and tell him to get to the station ASAP, the Chief is pissed."

"Uh…yea, ok."

Wesker started to swing his legs out of bed an immediately noticed there was a problem, his legs were tangled in the blankets and something was holding the blankets down. It was right about now that he also noticed something very warm on his back. With a bit of effort he managed a semi sitting position and craned his neck around to his left, laying snug up against him was Chris…and he was snoring.

"Oh my…"

"Is something wrong?"

Wesker quickly shook his head, realized Claire couldn't see that, and hastily cleared his throat.

"No, nope, everything's fine, just…uh…tangled up in the blankets is all…yup!"

On the other end of the line, Claire stared at the handset as if it had suddenly become alive and begun to talk in tongues. Wesker sounded…embarrassed…

Back at the Redfield residence, Wesker turned to the problem at hand, waking up Chris. He seemed to forget that he hadn't hung up the phone and that it was still in his hand. He reached over and poked him in the shoulder.

"Chris, wake up."

Unknown to Wesker, Claire was choking on a mouthful of Pepsi, because she now knows Wesker and Chris are currently residing in the same bed. In the meantime, Wesker pokes Chris again, which causes Chris to look momentarily pissed off and edge closer to him. Narrowing his eyes Wesker takes a deep breath and…

"REDFIELD WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?!"

Chris sat bolt upright, which knocked Wesker out of bed…blankets and all.

"Nothing Captain! Just looking over these reports!"

Wesker sat blinking on the floor, blankets heaped around him, and the telephone still in his left hand. On the other end of the line, Claire had burst into laughter so hard she was crying. In the meantime Chris seemed to wake up and glanced around, finally spotting Wesker on the floor, he leaned over the bed, his hand resting on the edge.

For a moment neither of them spoke and the question Wesker was about ask, about how Chris had wound up in his bed, was forgotten as the two men started at each other.

Chris couldn't believe how pale Wesker was and it had nothing to do with the torture, he was just naturally pale…like carved Alabaster. His blonde hair was hanging in his eyes again and Chris couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like running through his hands.

Wesker's eyes traveled from Chris' forearms to his chest and he wondered if Chris was naturally dark complexioned or just really tanned. From there his eyes traveled up to the man's face. He's always thought it interesting that Chris always looked like he hadn't shaved in two days…it was attractive…

Chris started to lean forward and suddenly his hand slipped. There was a blur of motion and Wesker's outstretched right hand rested on Chris' chest…keeping him from falling off the bed. Their faces were only inches apart.

Chris had never realized how beautiful Wesker's eyes really were and Wesker had never noticed that Chris' were such a dark brown.

"Um…if you two are done doing whatever it is you are doing..."The laughter in Claire's voice was barely contained over the phone. "I'm not judging mind you…but Chris is now about two hours late and Kent is pissed!"

"Shit!!"

Chris attempted to jump off the bed, lost his balance, which in turn caused Wesker's hand to slip, and he wound up tumbling off on top of Wesker.

"I'm late for work." Chris croaked as he stared down into Wesker's upturned face. "Two hours."

"So it would seem." Wesker mumbled, clutching the phone for dear life. "Perhaps you should leave."

"Now lover boy." Claire crooned from the phone. "You two can smooch later!"

Chris almost broke his neck getting up, practically every inch of him blushing. Wesker too was blushing as he pulled himself from the floor and hastily dusted off the seat of his pajama bottoms. Just as he stepped into the hallway, Chris came rushing back in fully dressed, briefly Wesker wondered where the clothes had come from since he hadn't taken any with him when he went running out.

"Uh, stay inside, don't leave…if you have to answer the door wear sunglasses."

Chris grabbed a set of car keys from the dresser and quickly slipped on a pair of shoes, before coming to a skidding halt in front of Wesker.

"I'll be back around six or so, call the station if you need anything, numbers on the fridge."

Before Wesker realized what was happening, Chris gave him a quick peck on the cheek and bolted out of the room. Wesker was completely dumbfounded and couldn't do anything more than stare out the door Chris had bolted through.

Chris was already in the car and halfway out of the driveway before he realized what he'd done…

"…oh…shit…"


	4. News Worthy

Five minutes after Chris had left, Wesker was still standing in the bedroom, staring at the open doorway

Five minutes after Chris had left Wesker was still standing in the bedroom, staring at the open doorway. There was more than just confusion stirring around in his head. Surprise was up there, along with shock and a mild case of embarrassment. There was also a fluttering sensation in the pit of his stomach, which he was refusing to acknowledge.

"Soooo…"

Wesker jumped, startled out his thoughts…thus the reason he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"He kissed me!"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line…

"He…did…WHAT?!"

Wesker quickly pressed the talk button, ending the conversation before it could even get a foothold. It took him a moment to realize he'd pressed the button just a tad bit too hard, resulting in the destruction of said phone.

"Shower!"

Wesker headed for the bathroom, dropping the phone on the bed on the way by. Apparently, at least in his mind, a shower would fix everything.

Meanwhile, while Wesker was busy with his shower, Chris was just sitting down at his desk after getting yelled at for a solid ten minutes. He had never welcomed being screamed at so much in his life. Anything that would take his mind off of earlier was a blessing.

Because every time he thought about it, he got morbidly embarrassed and mildly excited, which he was refusing to acknowledge. This is of course the reason Claire was able to surprise a rather unusual confession out of him.

"Soooo…"

"It was an accident!"

Claire blinked several times, using all her strength to suppress a simile. Chris, on the other hand, turned a pasty shade of white.

"Really?" Claire chocked out, trying not to giggle. "Did you slip him the tongue?"

Chris' pasty complexion instantly went crimson.

"No I did not!"

"Being a gentleman huh?"

"How did you find out anyway?"

"Wesker blurted it out over the phone." Claire grabbed a chair and sat down in front of his desk. "I actually think it's kinda cute."

"It was an accident." Chris grumbled, absently sorting paperwork. "I thought he was Jill."

"Really now?"

Chris froze, his shoulders hunching up like he was about to be slapped. Jill walked around from behind him, looking both amused and pissed off.

"So tell me…" she said, taking a seat next to Claire. "…who should feel flattered, Wesker or me?"

While Chris was trying to come up with an answer that wouldn't get him slapped, Claire's cell phone rang. Inwardly sighing, because she really didn't want to miss his flimsy answer, she quickly excused herself to a corner of the room.

"This had better be good!"

There was a short paused, followed by someone clearing their throat.

"Ms. Redfield…I…uh…"

"It's Kennedy now."

There was another pause, which Claire was secretly taking great joy in. Despite forgiving Wesker for the incident on Rockfort Island, Claire couldn't help taking mild enjoyment in his discomfort.

"Indeed, Mrs. Kennedy, I…uh…need some help."

"Ok. I'll be there in ten minutes."

Claire didn't bother knocking, instead she fumbled her keys out of her pocket, unlocked the door, and walked in…after all it was her brother's house. What she saw made her stop dead in her tracks, drop her keys, and star in surprise. Wesker, evil mastermind and all around bad guy, was vacuuming the floor. Vacuuming the floor barefoot in a pair of blue jeans and a navy blue dress shirt rolled up to the elbows no less.

_If I wasn't a married woman, he wasn't so evil, and my brother wasn't already pining for him_…

Claire shook her head, shaking out the naughty thoughts, and cleared her throat…very loudly. Wesker glanced over as he turned off the vacuum.

"Do you realize your brother had unidentifiable life forms growing in his refrigerator?"

He asked, brushing several strands of unruly blonde hair out of his eyes. Claire actually found the hairdo, longish like Leon's but parted in the middle, more attractive than Wesker's usual hairdo. Maybe it was BECAUSE it was like Leon's that she found it to be downright adorable.

"That sounds normal to me, he eats out a lot."

"So it would seem, there was quite a lot of take out boxes."

"I brought you a pair of sunglasses." Claire reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of black aviator sunglasses. "Chris left them in my car and I figured you'd them if you really want to leave the house. Considering you apparently have no food, that might be the best option.."

"Indeed…"

A couple hours after leaving the house, Wesker found himself walking down the street with his worst enemy's sister discussing a wine sauce for boneless pork chops. Never in a million years would he have believed that either of the Redfield siblings would willing be around him…for any reason.

"Sherry has been asking about you."

Wesker was momentarily taken aback. Somehow a conversation about pork chops and household cleaners had taken a sideways turn and rolled off a cliff. He felt like he was being thrown into the middle of a conversation he didn't remember leaving.

"Is that so."

"Yea, we found her about two weeks after you getting pardoned. She said you were the one who kept that company you were working for from poking her with needles. Pretty slick dying her hair like that and hiding her with your sister." Claire smirked, giving him a sideways glance. "Hiding in plain sight, that place you worked for wasn't very smart."

Wesker nodded absently, his eyes fixing on a young boy with a ball near the corner, several yards ahead.

"She seems to really like your sister and since Sherry has no living family they decided to leave her with Alex."

Wesker was barley hearing a word Claire was saying. All his attention was fixed on the kid with the ball and the very large dump truck coming down the street.

"She said…"

Claire stumbled as Wesker dropped the bag he was carrying and took off down the street. It took her a moment to realize that he was no longer standing next to her and was now a couple yards away on the other side of the street, holding a kid in his arms.

"Holy shit!"

She grabbed the dropped bag and ran down to meet them, just as the news van pulled up. She took exactly two seconds to asses the situation and respond accordingly.

Wesker had saved a kid from being squished by a large city dump truck, when said kid ran out into the street after his ball. A passing news van had seen the whole incident and were currently talking with the hysterical mother of the child, who had snatched the kid from Wesker's arms and was covering him in kisses. Wesker was nervously adjusting his sunglasses and looking for a place to hide.

"Wesker, smile a lot and don't talk." Claire mumbled, pulling her ID from her purse. "Let me handle the press, you just look like the modest Good Samaritan we all know you are."

Wesker started to respond, with a witty and no doubt cutting comment, when a microphone was suddenly shoved in his face.

"Sir, just what were you thinking as you ran out into traffic to save a five year old boy from certain death?"

Back at the station, Jill and Rebecca were staring at the TV mouths agape. The simply could not wrap their heads around Claire and Wesker being downtown in the middle of a press conference because Wesker decided to play in rush hour traffic. Of course neither of them were all that pissed at him, after all he had saved a little kid's life. Still, a lot of TV coverage of Albert Wesker was not a good idea. The morons who had held him might still be looking for him.

"That hairdo is kinda cute." Rebecca said, handing Jill a bowl of popcorn. "It's much more adorable than his usual one."

"Yea, probably uses a lot less hair gel too."

"Does Chris even own hair gel?"

"No, his hair looks that messy all on its own."

"My hair…WHY THE HELL IS HE WEARING MY SUNGLASSES?!"

Rebecca and Jill both turned to find Chris staring at the TV looking pissed off.

"I think you're missing the big issue Chris." Jill chided. "He's on TV and people are looking for him."

"First I'm gonna kill my sister, then I'm gonna kill him!"

**Meanwhile…**

"Dr. Ross…we've found him…"


	5. Desire

Dr

Dr. Evelyn Ross was smiling brightly as Barker, Captain of Security, explained to her the situation. Apparently her little test subject was now residing in Derry, Maine with Christopher Redfield. She found it intriguing that her little test subject's worst enemy was now housing him.

"Will it be possible for you to retrieve the subject for us?" Her tone was light and sweet, like a mother talking to a child. "We do miss him so very much."

"I already have a team en route."

"Very good Barker." Dr. Magus said, turning in his chair. "Send us word as soon as they are in position. Any data we can collect on the subject during capture will be vital."

Barker nodded, turned, and headed out the door. Magus looked at Ross, gracing her with a rare smile.

"Interesting situation, my dear."

"Indeed."

…Meanwhile…

Chris was livid…no beyond livid. Not only was he pissed about the whole incident with the news camera, but Wesker wearing his sunglasses wasn't making his day any brighter. As Chris yelled Claire and Wesker, both sitting on the couch like a couple of little kids, Claire couldn't help but wonder which was pissing him off more…the sunglasses or the news.

"What in the hell were you two thinking?!" Chris roared, glaring at the two of them. "What if you'd gotten caught or killed?!"

"But we didn't." Claire smiled brightly. "And it was good PR for the station."

Chris threw his hands up in disgust and shook his head. Claire continued to smile, while Wesker studied the condition of the carpet under his tennis shoes. It was obvious, at least to Jill, that he was starting to become irate about the situation. Not that Chris was really noticing. That was about to change.

"You know I would have expected you two to have more damn sense!" Chris muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Especially you Wesker, I mean for Christ sake you…"

Suddenly, Wesker jumped to his feet his eyes narrowed. Jill stumbled backwards, despite the fact she was the furthest away from him at the moment. He advanced on Chris, the sunglasses dropping from his hand to bounce across the carpet and stop by Claire's feet.

Chris took an involuntary step backwards, flashbacks of Rockfort Island running through his mind.

"Perhaps I should have allowed the child to be horribly mangled by the passing dump truck." Wesker's cold calculating tone was back in all it's icy glory. "Would that have pleased you more than the current situation?"

Chris managed to stand his ground as Wesker came to a halt with only a foot between them. To his right, Jill was edging her way toward the couch, while Claire seemed intent on the show about to come.

Chris wasn't a 100 sure on how to answer the question currently up for debate. After all, Wesker had saved a child's life. On the other hand he had exposed himself and Claire, meaning if anyone was still looking for him they had just gotten a huge clue. Plus he had been wearing his sunglasses, let's not forget that.

Behind the two men, Jill was pulling Claire out the door…much to the younger woman's dismay. She wasn't really worried about either man killing each other, she just wanted to see which one was going to make the first _move_. The tension between the two was obvious to anyone with half a brain and besides, Claire was a huge fan of Yaoi.

"Jill, what the hell are you doing?!" Claire snapped, her voice barley above a whisper. "We're gonna miss the good part!"

"Twit." Jill snapped back, easing the door closed. "There won't be a _good part_ if we're in the same room with them."

"Good point…but…"

"Just follow me."

As Jill lead Claire around the side of the house, Wesker and Chris were still having a staring contest in the living room. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Chris couldn't help but notice that Wesker looked damn fine wearing his clothes.

"No." Chris managed to stammer without sounding too distracted. "I can't argue with that."

"Indeed."

The tension in Wesker's shoulders seemed to relax, which caused the button up shirt he was wearing to gap slightly. Chris' eyes immediately dropped their gaze to the patch of pale skin. Wesker's eyes flicked down, following Chris gaze. He went a dark shade of crimson when he saw what Chris was staring at.

Before Wesker could register what was happening, Chris took a step forward. Wesker froze as Chris ran his fingers up his arm, across his shoulders, and finally rested them on the back of his neck. Yellow eyes stared into brown as Chris fingered the hair on the side of Wesker's face, his right hand still resting on the older man's neck.

"Sometimes I think the reason I hated you so much, is because…" Chris paused as he grasped Wesker's chin and lifted his face slightly. "…I'd fallen in love with you."

Wesker's eyes widened as Chris leaned down ever so slightly and kissed him on the lips. There was only the barest moment of hesitation before Wesker's arms wrapped around the taller man's neck. Chris buried his hand in the blonde's silky fine hair forcing Wesker's mouth to open. Wesker moaned, tightening his grip on the brunette's neck as Chris tongue slide over his teeth and caressed his own tongue.

Chris' hand slide down Wesker's neck, grasped the collar of the shirt, and yanked. Buttons popped and flew everywhere, to land unnoticed on the floor. Wesker pulled back from the kiss, panting lightly.

"You don't know how often I watched you." He chocked out, staring into Chris eyes. "After the mansion I.."

Chris laid a finger over his lips.

"None of that, now. I denied my feelings so much it developed into a hatred." Chris ran his finger lightly over Wesker's lips, eliciting a soft moan from the older man. "We both made mistakes, let's not make any more."

Wesker slowly nodded as Chris slipped the blue button up off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Wesker slid a hand into the waist band of Chris jeans and with ease popped the button off, revealing a pair of black bikini underwear. Wesker blinked for a moment, no doubt taken off guard by the color. Chris glanced down and smirked.

"You're no the only one who likes black, you know."

Wesker looked up, arching an eyebrow and looking like his usual smug self. It made Chris go positively gooey inside. Suddenly Chris was on the couch, with Wesker straddling his thighs. For the briefest of moments Chris was afraid, then Wesker leaned in and kissed him, running his hands over the brunette's chest.

Outside, the girls were softly giggling as things on the couch heated up. Both of them had seen this coming from a mile away, perhaps Jill more so because of her time spent with Chris.

"Um…they are naked and I have no desire to see my brother's wang, thank you very much.

"I get the hint." Jill muttered, ducking down below the window frame. "Besides I've already seen it."

Jill suppressed a laugh as Claire stared at her, eyes wide and mouth agape…

…Meanwhile…

"Dr. Ross, an interesting development has just arisen…"


	6. Thoughts and Reflections

Chris ran his fingers lightly through Wesker's hair, smiling at the softness of it

Chris ran his fingers lightly through Wesker's hair, smiling at the softness of it. The older man shifted slightly, wrapping one arm around Chris' waist. Chris paused for a moment, moving his head enough to see Wesker's face. He was still sound asleep, his head resting on Chris' chest, a small smile on his face. Carefully Chris slid up against the headboard, giving his back a much needed break.

After the couch, they had managed to save enough energy to collapse in the bedroom, although Wesker fell asleep only a few minutes after getting there. Not that it had anything to do with lack of stamina, it was more pure exhaustion from _before_. Six months can take a lot out of you, especially if you are being tortured.

Idly, Chris ran a finger over the newly healed skin around Wesker's neck. The older man stirred in his sleep, his grip tightening ever so slightly. Chris immediately ceased and the grip relaxed.

The newly healed skin, still tinged pink, ringed Wesker's neck and was about two inches wide. That of course matched with the collar Rebecca had pulled off of him after Chris got him here. Chris wasn't a 100 sure but, he thought the collar emitted some kind of electric shock and from the wound, it must have been a pretty damn strong one too.

At least he wouldn't scar, or so said Rebecca. She figured any damage he took healed so fast it didn't have time to scar. For that Chris had been thankful, not that he would have minded a few scars on Wesker…he had one or two is seemed from before the Mansion. No, Chris was more concerned that any scarring would only remind Wesker of what had happened, which would not in any way be a good thing.

Chris' mind turned from Wesker, to Jill. She was a remarkable woman, who knew him better than he even knew himself…why she had married him, was anyone's guess. She must have known from the minute they said _I Do_, it wasn't going to work. Chris was too obsessed with Wesker for anything like that to work.

Oh he'd been up front with her about his sexual preferences, long before they'd become involved. He'd never tried to hide that fact that he played for both teams and she didn't care. But he wondered, and not for the first time mind you, if she knew back then that he had a crush on Wesker.

From the first moment he'd laid eyes on his Captain, he'd been in lust. Forest had seen it easily enough and tried to keep him from doing something stupid, which he had succeeded at. After all, you don't go up to your commanding officer and tell them you think they have a cute ass…especially if your both the same sex, it just isn't done that way. But he'd pinned for him that was for sure and did damn near anything to get his attention.

Which is why the Mansion had been so bad.

Chris didn't know, even now, if he was more hurt by Wesker betraying the team…or betraying him and his ideal of how the man should be…

Wesker whimpered and Chris placed a hand on his back…he immediately quieted down.

Now though, it was different. Chris could let go of his anger, not because Wesker had been proven innocent and not because he seemed slightly softer. No, he could let go of his anger because he knew the object of his desire wanted him just as much as he did.

While Chris was finally dealing with his demons, something was stirring in Wesker's own mind…something that brought him immediately awake…


	7. Capture

Chris' head smacked painfully against the floor, making him reconsider the wood flooring he'd installed only a couple months before

Chris' head smacked painfully against the floor, making him reconsider the wood flooring he'd installed only a couple months before. It was funny the things you thought of when machine gun fire was ripping apart your bedroom.

Luckily, Wesker had rolled him out of the bed only seconds before the bullets turned the mattress into so much stuffing floating in the air. As Wesker rolled off of him and the machine gun fired continued to ruin his walls, Chris absently wondered if his homeowners would cover this.

"Bathroom!"

Chris crawled after him, snagging some clothes as he went by. Wesker kicked the door shut behind them, shutting out the noise of the splintering walls while Chris sorted through the clothing. At least he'd managed a shirt and pair of jeans apiece, they'd have to fight over the socks.

"It seems my wake up calls are getting worse." Wesker mumbled, struggling into a pair of Chris jeans. "I much prefer the phone over this."

"Who wouldn't?" Chris muttered, yanking a black tee shirt over his head. "So what now?"

"Two choices." He said, pulling on a green tee shirt. "Window or we wait until they stop shooting and run downstairs."

Chris glanced at his so called window, which was actually several blocks of fancy looking glass, roughly three feet by three feet. He was a little wary of just how Wesker planned on "opening" said window, though he had a round idea of just how it was going to be done.

"Your thoughts?"

"I have no desire to discover how many bullets my body can absorb before it fails, which I grant you is probably quite a lot."

"Good point." Chris turned his eyes form the window back to Wesker. "Age before beauty."

Wesker grunted in reply, though Chris clearly saw the corner of his mouth twitch slightly, before he stepped into the tub, pulled back his fist, and slammed it into the middle of four inches of expensive glass. The results were exactly as Chris predicted, the blocks cracked and shattered leaving a large hole big enough for the two of them to escape through. As he dropped to the ground outside, landing in the holly bushes his sister had so thoughtfully planted there last summer…he again wondered how much of this damage his homeowners was going to cover.

Wesker glared the bushes with hate and disgust, willing the plants to shrivel and die. He had never been terribly fond of foliage, let alone a plant that could attack you with very pointy and painful leaves. He glanced at Chris, inclining his head toward a thick wooded area across the street. Chris gave a sharp nod back and crept out of the bushes.

The two of the trotted across the street quickly, hunching so as to make as small a target as possible, and ducked into the tree line. It was some kind of park, from the looks of the playground equipment a few feet to their left. From this vantage, Wesker could just make out the muzzle flashes from the seven or eight darkly clad morons shooting into Redfield's house.

"Looks like about eight." Wesker whispered, leaning close to Chris. "You can figure maybe double that if they want us alive."

"Alive?" Chris sounded doubtful. "You maybe…they just Swiss cheesed my house!"

"True, but you are still alive."

"Yea, thanks to you and you're bionic reflexes."

Wesker grunted, as he scanned the area. He knew whoever was hunting them wanted them alive, otherwise they would have been more careful in attacking and not been so loud. Although anyone but him wouldn't have heard them. Be that as it may, no doubt his former captures wanted combat data on both himself and Redfield. Not a reassuring thought.

Wesker's attention was on the men still firing into the bedroom, a mild case of overkill if ever he saw it, when Redfield squeezed his forearm…painfully. Wesker's head snapped around and he immediately saw what had gotten Redfield's attention. Two heavily armed men were moving through the playground. His eyes flicked to Redfield, then to the men, and back again. Redfield nodded, slowly letting go of his arm.

As Wesker shot from the bushes like a speeding bullet, Chris ducked and headed to his left, moving around behind the enemy. There was a brief commotion and Chris raised his head in time to see the second of the two men hit the ground, his neck at a very odd angle. As Chris started to stand he felt some very cold and very metallic touch the base of his skull.

"Move slowly and I won't blow your head off."

Chris eyes flicked to Wesker, who was holding one of the former commandos silenced MP-5s.

"Put it down or your boyfriend…"

While Mr. Headshot had is attention fixed on Wesker, who he must have figured was the more dangerous of the two, Chris had executed a textbook leg sweep. Mr. Headshot fell backwards, hitting his head on a rock and knocking himself out. Which Chris, in retrospect, thought was very nice of him and saved Chris a lot of extra work.

However, their luck was about to run out. As Chris snagged Mr. Headshot's Beretta and stood up, something ricochet off the tree only inches away on his right. Wesker brought the MP-5 to his shoulder, as Chris lurched sideways and hit the ground.

It took seconds for the darkly clad figures to close in, one of the planted a foot in Chris' back while his buddy wrenched his arms backwards and cuffed them. A second later he was wrenched to his feet. Blood seeped from a bullet wound to his right upper arm, compliments of the ricochet.

"Put your gun down Captain Wesker." Barker's voice was cool and clipped. "I have orders to bring you both in alive and I would hate to see Mr. Redfield further damaged."

Wesker had a bead on him and could splatter his brains in a second. However he doubted whether or not he could kill the two men currently pointing guns at Redfield's head before either of them pulled the trigger. Not to mention, Redfield was currently bleeding all over the place. Granted it wasn't a terribly bad wound, but Wesker still wasn't pleased.

"I'll only ask once more Captain. Drop the gun and place your hands behind your head, interlacing the fingers if you please."

He glanced between Barker and Redfield twice more, before tossing the gun on the ground. Slowly he put his hands behind his head, interlocking the fingers as instructed.

"On your knees."

Wesker dropped to his knees, glaring at Barker the entire time. Chris looked ready to be sick, especially when three of the men moved in close as Barker pulled something from his pocket.

"NO!"

Chris clipped the one man in the jaw with his head, while at the same time he managed to trip up the second man. Both hit the ground as he lunged forward, knocking Barker to the ground with a heavy grunt. Because Chris was still handcuffed he did the only thing he could think of…he bit Barker in the back of the neck as hard as he could.

"Fuck! Get this asshole off of me!"

While three of the men kept their guns trained on Wesker's head, two others grabbed Chris by the arms and yanked him off of Barker. Unfortunately for him, Chris didn't let go of his neck and consequently took a good chunk of Barker with him.

"You little son of a bitch."

He backhanded Chris in the mouth, sending him to his knees. He groaned as black spots colored his vision. Wesker's eyes narrowed as he rocked forward, preparing to stand. Three gun barrels pushed forward, pressing into his head at various points.

Wesker was fairly positive he could survive most serious and what some would consider fatal wounds, however even he was doubtful about living through three point blank shots to the head. So he was helpless to prevent Barker from giving Redfield a few well placed kicks to the ribs.

"Leave him alone." He growled, yellow eyes narrowing.

Barker turned, gave Redfield one last good kick to the kidney area, then walked over. He pulled a thick collar from his pocket, a smirk plastered on his face. What little color was in Wesker's face, drained immediately. He remembered all to well what that collar could do and would have resisted, if not for the audible click of a hammer being pulled back.

"Relax and your boyfriend lives to see the sunrise."

He offered no resistance as Barker slipped the collar around his neck and cinched it tight. A second later he blacked out as a gun stock connected with the back of his head…


	8. Please

Wesker groaned as he slowly opened his eyes, despite his "enhancements" he had a headache the size of Montana

Wesker groaned as he slowly opened his eyes, despite his "enhancements" he had a headache the size of Montana. It took several seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the room and for the briefest of moments he panicked, thinking everything that had happened over the past handful of days had been a dream. Because this room was an exact replica of the place he had been rescued from.

Then he saw Redfield chained to the ceiling only a few feet away, a bandage around his right bicep and sporting a black eye. Despite the situation he was relieved, he hadn't been dreaming and Redfield seemed to be in relatively good health.

"I see you've decided to join us, Dr. Wesker."

Wesker knew that voice only too well and turned his head to see Dr. Magus standing to Chris' left. Wesker's eyes narrowed, flicking to the small remote in his hand. He was all too aware what it controlled, the heavy collar around his neck.

"We were worried, you were asleep quite a long time."

Magus smiled, stepping toward him. Wesker watched him like a cat watches a bird, waiting for the chance to strike.

"Now, now Doctor." Magus chided, running his thumb lightly over one of the remote's buttons. "Don't' look at me like that, you would have done the same in my place. How can you expect me to pass up the chance to examine a fine specimen such as yourself? We had to have you back."

"I never tortured anyone."

"Semantics." Magus snapped, his eyes narrowing. "That wasn't very nice of you, running off like that. But it wasn't entirely your fault, now was it?"

As Magus turned toward Redfield, Wesker realized what was about to happen…Chris was also wearing a collar. He couldn't allow Redfield to be tortured because of him, he wouldn't.

"Don't…"

Magus turned, arching an eyebrow. "Don't what?"

"Don't…"

Magus smiled every so slightly, his finger brushing over the controller. Wesker tensed, every muscle clenched in unspoken anger. Slowly he turned his gaze to Chris. For a moment, brown eyes met yellow, and Wesker swallowed his pride. He dropped his head, hiding the shame from both Magus and Redfield.

"…please…"

"Hrmm…interesting."

Then Chris was screaming…

Adrenaline is an interesting hormone, as such things go. It stimulates the heart-rate, dilates blood vessels and air passages, and is naturally produced in high-stress or physically exhilarating situations.

It can give a man the stamina to carry his critically wounded buddy ten miles to the nearest medical help, despite being wounded himself…

It can give a ninety pound woman the strength to lift a car off her dying child…

It can also give a man, already fully capable of doing both those things with ease, the power to snap unbreakable steel like it was twine…

Wesker hit the floor with a soft thud. Magus was slowly backing away as Wesker's head tilted up, his yellow eyes gleaming.

"St…stay away…" Magus stuttered, his eyes darting to the remote. "I…I'm warning you!"

"Really?" Wesker said, his voice like ice. "Warn me again."

Magus fumbled with the remote, but still somehow managed to push the right button. Electricity surged through Wesker's body, causing every muscle to lock up.

"See!" Magus yelled. "I warned you! I war…no…no…you can't…it's not possible!!"

Magus stared in utter disbelief as Wesker, beyond all sane comprehension and scientific data, took a step forward. Whatever was coursing through Wesker's body, it was being aided by a healthy dose of pure white hot anger.

Magus stumbled backwards as Wesker took another step toward him. As he did, Magus turned the dial of the remote, increasing the output. Wesker paused for a second, then took another step.

"No…it's inconceivable!" Magus shouted, as he bumped into the wall. "This can't be!"

Wesker's whole body was shaking with the effort to stay on his feet and yet he still took another step forward and another. Magus stared, as Wesker bridged the gap between the two of them.

"Fine." Magus gritted his teeth. "FINE!"

He cranked the dial to the highest setting. Wesker froze in misstep, causing him to stumble to one knee. Either by reflex or luck, he managed to plant his hands and kept from falling face first into the cement.

"HA!" Magus, laughed, taking a tentative step away from the wall. "Even you can't handle that!"

Wesker's head was hanging down, sweat running down his face. Magus stepped even closer, holding the remote tightly in one hand, as he stared at Wesker with a look very close to insanity.

"You think you are so smart, so great, bu…"

Lighting fast, Wesker's hand shot out and closed around Magus' ankle. The good doctor had exactly three seconds to ponder just how Wesker was still able to move with that much electricity coursing through his body, before Magus got a first hand sample of just what he had been subjecting his specimens to.

Wesker slowly tilted his head upwards a cold animalistic grin spreading across his face. Magus could see that look and had he not been locked into position by the massive amount of current, he probably would have panicked and run screaming from the room. As it was the most he could do was whimper the slightest bit as smoke started to waft up from under his shirt. Magus was being burned alive from the inside out.

As Magus' smoldering body hit the ground, a look of pain filled horror forever etched on his face, Wesker caught the remote. It had all but shorted out at this point, thanks to the electricity running through the former Dr. Magus.

Wesker stood up, that grin now only a slim smile, and ripped the collar off. A second later it hit the floor, bounced, and landed on Magus' still smoking chest. Then he turned, his face smoothly rolling into a look of concern as he reached for Redfield's chains.

"Redfield." Wesker whispered, easily snapping the links. "Wake up."

Chris cracked open an eye, looking slightly bewildered. The last thing he remembered was Wesker saying please, then a shit load of pain…he must have blacked out.

"What I miss." He muttered thickly as Wesker lowered him to the floor. "What the hell is that stench?"

Wesker nodded his head to the left, while he busied himself with getting the shackles off of Chris' writs. Chris looked over and came very close to throwing up.

"Well, that's the most disgusting thing I've seen in a while."

"Really?" Wesker's tone was cool, as he finished with the shackles. "Have you looked in your refrigerator lately?"

"Hah, hah, very…"

Chris was cut off as Wesker wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. Chris was a tad surprised, but responded easily as he slid his arms around Wesker's waist.

"I thought he was going to kill you."

Chris didn't say anything, not even when Wesker's grip on him tightened enough that it was becoming a little hard to breath. The embrace only lasted a couple of seconds but it seemed to help center Wesker enough that he wasn't sporting that pained looked on his face anymore. Wesker pulled back and cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair as he did so. Chris couldn't help thinking it looked adorable.

"I believe we should make our escape now, before they find out Dr. Magus is deceased."

Chris nodded. "Lead the way."


End file.
